All That I Can Give
by Arwhale
Summary: Rarity's husband, Fancy Pants, decides to treat her to a little tender loving care after she returns home from a long and stressful trip.


**All in the Vows**

by _Arwhale_

Rarity was certainly not a stranger to long trips. But she had to admit that after having two of them back to back over the course of only three weeks, they were starting to take a toll on her.

As far as train rides went, the journey from Baltimare to Canterlot was a pleasant one. But for Rarity, sleep deprived as she was, every little turn, bump, or jolt the car made seemed to be amplified by a constant buzzing sensation in the back of her skull. Groaning lightly, she pressed a hoof to her aching forehead and wiped off a thin coating of sweat and grime; she had gotten back to the hotel very late the night before and had been too tired to take a shower.

For a short period, the entire inside of the train car went dark. Right away, Rarity knew she was close; the train was passing through one of the many tunnels carved into the grand mountain where Canterlot resided. In her traveling experience, that meant the station was only minutes away...

The train passed through two more tunnels before she heard the steam whistle signal her arrival. Rarity picked up her saddlebag from the empty seat beside her and donned her pink traveling hat as the steady squealing of the train's brakes filled her ears. The forward lurching motion of the train stopping made her aching head swim, and she suppressed another groan.

"Calling all passengers for Canterlot Station!" A voice blared over the intercom. Rarity waited until the train had come to a complete halt and then stood in front of the sliding door until it opened. Too exhausted to care about grace, she hopped down onto the platform with bulging saddlebag in tow and landed with a soft thud. She took a deep breath and took a moment to thank the fates that she had finally made it back in one piece.

"Rarity, my dear!"

It was a voice that she had become well-acquainted with since their wedding only two years prior. At the sound of his greeting, Rarity lifted her head. The sight of her husband standing only a few short meters away, put a smile on her face

"Hello, Fancy," she said. Her eyes closed with contentment as he planted a quick smooch on her lips and wrapped a foreleg around her withers in a warm hug. She returned the gesture with a happy sigh. "I'm back at last, thank Celestia. How have you been?"

Fancy Pants shrugged. "Oh, I've been quite alright. Encountered some minor issues with estate affairs, but nothing significant. I say," he said, feeling the spot on her back between her shoulderblades, "You do feel rather tense..."

Rarity gave a low chuckle. "Yes, I'm sure... it's been stressful, these past few weeks. And I imagine I must look almost as bad as I feel right now..."

Fancy Pants scoffed. "Look bad? Never." He pulled away and stepped off to the side, taking Rarity's saddlebag from her back and setting it on his own. "Let's get you home. So you are feeling ill?"

Rarity nodded. "A little under the weather, yes..." She placed a hoof onto her aching skull. "I've had this throbbing headache for the past two days that refuses to go away..."

Fancy Pants adjusted the saddlebag and walked side by side with her off of the platform. "Hmm. Oh dear..."

"And it's even worse, because I have to catch another train tomorrow, bright and early at 8 o'clock." She groaned. "Hopefully, this whole thing will go away with a good night's sleep..."

At the mentioning of catching another train the following morning, Fancy Pants' brow furrowed downward. He pursed his lips. "Oh... yes, quite... where did you say that trip was to, exactly?"

Rarity had to think for a moment before she could answer, and then said, "I'm going to Vanhoover. There's going to be a competition there for upcoming winter designs, and I figured it would be a good way to get myself noticed while also trying my hoof at something I'm not as experienced with."

As she explained, Fancy Pants listened intently. A short period of silence ensued before he made any kind of reply.

"Hmm. Vanhoover is an awfully long way..." he coughed to clear his throat. Rarity nodded wearily.

"Yes, I know. Sixteen hours by train..." she said with a sigh. "It's going to be another long week, that is for sure..."

Fancy Pants nodded in agreement. "I'm sure it will be..." He glanced up at the sky, which was turning a light shade of pink as the sun flirted with the horizon. It was only early autumn, but as the sun began to dip below the tall buildings of the city, a slight breeze carried with it an uncomfortable chill, causing Rarity to shiver. He picked up the pace. "I'll be sure to make us some tea and something to eat when we arrive back. Are you feeling hungry?"

Rarity shrugged. "I... well, I don't have much of an appetite, to be honest. But the tea sounds heavenly." She smiled with anticipation. "I haven't been able to settle down and have a cup of chamomile in far too long."

Fancy Pants nuzzled his wife on the cheek. "Oh, I am well aware of that." He pointed to a closed carriage directly in front of them, manned by two hefty stallions. "Don't worry, we'll be home in no time."

Rarity had been looking down at the ground in an effort to fend away some of the obnoxious pain thumping against the inside of her skull, but when she looked up at where Fancy's hoof indicated, her sagging face immediately seemed to lift. Even though she'd been married and living in Canterlot for two full years, she still had not gotten used to the closed carriages, the servants, and the gateway arches to fountain courtyards. But seeing her easy ride back home, she was not about to complain. Fancy Pants opened the door and stepped aside.

"After you." He offered a hoof to help her in. She took hold of it and climbed in, and he followed suit. As soon as the door had shut, the carriage started forward, and the two of them headed for home.

...

To tell the truth, Fancy Pants did not know how to "make" much of anything. In fact, he hardly knew how to get the water boiling, let alone make tea. Fortunately for him, he had servants for that, and pretty soon the sweet and fruity aroma of chamomile filled the posh, dimly-lit lounge where he and his wife sat.

Rarity held her head over the teacup for several moments, breathing in the sweet-scented steam and vapor wafting upward before picking it up with her horn. She took a careful sip; the drink was still hot, but not enough to burn her tongue. She exhaled deeply.

"This is lovely, thank you," she said, taking another sip. "It's been far too long...I think my headache is starting to go away, finally."

The news was welcome for the both of them. Fancy had poured himself a cup of tea as well, which he sipped at while idly adjusting the bowtie on his suit. He nodded his head in a knowing manner.

"I'm glad to hear. I was hoping it would have that effect. Chamomile is known to have many soothing properties, and this is the finest tea of it I could find." He set the teacup back onto the saucer. "I hope it will help to ease some of the stress that you might still be feeling."

To Rarity, it was obvious that it was working. She simpered at him.

"Thank you, sweetheart," she said, sighing out the words. She rubbed her temples in small circles as the gnawing ache began to subside. "You're always the gentlecolt..."

The amount of steam coming from their cups lessened as the tea's temperature dropped. No longer needing to be wary of burning her mouth, Rarity took bigger sips until the cup was empty and set it down onto the saucer with a soft _clink._ She took a look at his cup on the other side of the table, and to her surprise, saw that he was barely half finished. He gestured to the teapot between them.

"Do you want a refill? Or something to eat, perhaps?"

She shook her head. "No, no. I'm alright, thank you... but what I _do_ really need is a shower," she said. The unicorn mare giggled at her own expense. "I feel like I haven't bathed in a year..."

Fancy smirked. His eyes seemed to pan over her body, and he gave her a shrug of his shoulders. "Be my guest. But... all things considered; I must say you do not look as worse for wear as you might believe..."

Considering that her body felt like it had been dipped in vegetable oil, her husband's compliment seemed almost comical. Rarity blew a raspberry.

"Oh, pfft." She waved his compliments off like a buzzing fly. "Stop it. I'm an absolute mess."

Her response was predictable, but it did not fail to make Fancy laugh inwardly. By now, he knew better than to argue with her over these kinds of matters, so he decided to let her have the last word, mumbling a neutral, "If you say so, my dear," and getting up from his seat. He downed the contents of his cup and set it on the table. "I'll ask Amble to take care of these for us. Will you be going to bed soon after?"

The question was practically rhetorical. Rarity turned her head around, raising an eyebrow and giving him a playful smirk. "What do you think? I could probably fall asleep on the floor right here and now if I wanted to..."

"If you would prefer, I could have Amble carry you up herself," he suggested. To somepony less knowledgeable, he may have sounded completely serious, but after two years she had come to know his sense of humor quite well. Rarity guffawed.

"No, that won't be necessary, thanks," she said, rolling her eyes. She hopped down to her hooves on the carpeted floor, joints making slight, crackling pops as they moved for the first time in a while. "I'm perfectly capable of getting there myself."

"Well, I am so glad to hear that," he said with as neutral a tone as he could manage, trying but failing to suppress a giddy grin. Feigning indignancy, Rarity turned away and tossed her head, hooves transitioning from carpeted to lacquered hardwood floor as she left the room with her nose in the air.

"Pfft. Have Amble ca... oh, why, I'd never!"

The sound of her hoofsteps receded until he couldn't hear them any longer. He peeked around the corner, waiting until she was out of sight. Once he surmised that she was also out of earshot, he called for somepony else with a low shout.

"Amble!"

He only had to call her name once before he could immediately hear her coming, hooves lightly clopping over the hardwood until a slender, blue-maned unicorn with a frilly white bonnet atop her head stepped into the room. She was practically standing on the tips of her hooves, eyes bright and alert.

"Yes, sir?" she answered. Fancy levitated all of the dishes together into one, neat stack and set the still half-filled teapot beside it.

"Could you please take these to the kitchen for me? There is still some tea leftover, so feel free to have as much as you want," he offered. Amble's face lit up briefly, and she curtsied to him before picking the dishes up in a light blue aura.

"Yes, sir. Thank you very much, sir," she said in a rapid fire fashion, hurrying to do what she'd been asked. But before she could leave the room, he stopped her.

"Oh, and Amble?" The mention of her name was enough to halt her in the doorway. She turned around with the dishes still hovering around her head. "Before you go, might I ask you if... if the room is ready?" Despite speaking at a normal volume to begin with, his voice dropped to just above a whisper with the last question. Amble gave him a curt nod.

"Yes, sir. Everything's just the way you wanted." Amble wasted no time replying in the affirmative. She stood stock still, as if at attention. Fancy Pants gave a good natured laugh at the young mare's enthusiasm.

"Excellent. Thank you very much, Amble. You're free to go," he excused her. Amble curtsied once more and at his command, scampered out of the room with the dishes in tow. Fancy Pants shook his head.

"Never change, Amble. Never change."

...

Spiral staircases were all the rage in Canterlot, and Fancy Pants' manor was certainly not without its share. And while Rarity was still not quite acclimated to the magnificence and spectacle of Canterlot high life, these spiraling columns of artistic grandeur were something that she could easily get used to.

Or so she thought, that is, until she had to traverse two of them just to get to the hallway which _then_ finally led to the master bathroom. On any other day, she would not have cared, but after sitting in the train for so long, her entire body still felt stiff as a board, and it was a bit of an effort to walk. When she finally made it there, she practically crawled into the built-in wall tub and turned the platinum knob to its hottest setting.

Often in the past three weeks, she'd had to settle for five minute hosedowns in a hotel bathroom before collapsing into bed two hours before sunrise, and to know that it was hardly eight o'clock in the evening slowed her down to a snail's pace. For quite some time, she just stood under the showerhead, letting the hot water cascade down over her body and breathing in the steam before she even began to wash herself off. When she finally did emerge from the tub, it was only because the hot water had gone cold.

The bathroom was foggy with steam at this point, but she did not mind. She wrapped a towel around her hair and dried herself off with another before taking it back off. She wiped away some of the steam from the mirror to look at herself, and frowned at the sorry state of her still damp mane and tail. But despite her fixation on looking her best, she was too tired to do anything about it right now; she could take care of it in the morning. Done at last, she opened the bathroom doors and walked into the bedroom.

The sight she encountered made the breath catch in her lungs. When she at last exhaled and breathed back in, the familiar scent of chamomile enveloped her.

One thing was for sure; the bedroom had looked nothing like this when she'd first arrived. The light she'd turned on upon arrival had been flicked back off, and the curtains of the window had been closed. On the bedside tables on either side of the central, canopied bed lay an assortment of tiny chamomile candles, all lit and emitting their sweet, soothing aroma to every corner of the room. Presented with the scene, Rarity felt as though her limbs were beginning to melt beneath her...

"Hello, my dear," a voice she knew quite well piped up from the far corner of the room. Taken off guard, Rarity jerked her head to the side just in time to see her husband step into the light, curiously lacking the tuxedo and tie which he usually wore. The flickering flames gave him the appearance of some kind of apparition as he emerged from the dark, but the kind smile on his face was plenty to keep her mind at ease. "Are you feeling better?"

Rarity was momentarily at a loss for words. Her eyes kept darting between him, the bed, and the vast array of scented candles in a looping triangle. "I, I, uhh... y-yes..." Her mouth opened and closed rapidly, and the words she managed to say came out in stammers. "I, um... wh-what is all this..?"

Fancy Pants' seemed to get a sense of enjoyment from her befuddlement. He walked over to her and wrapped a foreleg around her withers in a gentle hug.

"I know you are not feeling well," he said as he ran his hoof up and down the place between her shoulders, much as he had done when she'd first gotten off the train. Feeling all of the knotted up muscle in her back which had been there before, he slowed down and massaged that particular spot. "And considering all the stress you've experienced and all the sleep you've lost over these past few weeks, I wanted to offer a... _remedy_ of sorts for you tonight before you leave again tomorrow."

Rarity listened to every word her husband said softly into her ear, tiny chills traveling up her spine as he massaged her back. She leaned into it, closing her eyes with the welcoming sensation of his hoof slowly undoing all of the stress and tension she had developed during her travels. She offered him no resistance as he led her over to the bed.

"Remedy..?" she repeated the word as a question. Fancy Pants nuzzled her and planted a wet kiss on her cheek.

"Indeed," he said. His warm breath tickled her ear, making it twitch. "That is, of course, if you are keen on the idea, my dear? You know I shall do nothing without your consent."

Rarity's breaths became more erratic with every passing moment, and she felt herself leaning further into his grasp. The whole thing still came as quite unexpected, but continuing to feel his hoof acting over her aching withers and hearing his kind, sweet voice in her ear, it was a surprise she gladly welcomed. It had been a long while since she'd been able to share a night like this with him, after all... quite a long while...

"That... that is definitely alright with me, Fancy..." she breathed out, arching her back slightly as his hoof continued to caress it. "K-keep doing that, please..."

Fancy Pants had no trouble following her request, digging his hoof a little deeper in between her shoulders. By this time, they were standing right next to the bed, and Fancy began to gravitate towards it. He reared his head back to look Rarity in the eye.

"I think it might be easier if you were lying down," he suggested. Knowing what was likely to come, Rarity's cheeks reddened visibly at the thought, but she nodded her head in agreement.

"Oh, um... yes, of course." She gave him a timid smile. They broke away from one another for a brief moment as Rarity climbed onto the comforter and lied on her stomach, stretching out her fore hooves in front of her and keeping her hind legs bunched up underneath her link a crouching Sphinx. Fancy followed her on, sitting down on his haunches directly beside her. There was no rush; he took his time in applying his hooves all over her upper back, kneading her white coat like firm dough.

"How is this?" he asked. Judging from Rarity's steady, quiet gasps, it would have probably been safe to say that he was doing it right, but he just wanted to make absolutely sure. As expected, she affirmed his efforts right away.

"It's lovely," she said with a nearly imperceptible moan. "Please, don't stop..."

And stop he did not. He carried on for several minutes, alternating between rubbing and fast drumming on her back with his hooves, as well as varying how much pressure he applied with each stroke. Rarity squirmed occasionally under his ministrations, feeling the knots and kinks in her muscles dissolving away. As time went on, she began to feel an odd, tingling sensation, localized at first in her lower regions, but eventually spreading throughout her entire body, and it intensified with every stroke he made.

"F-Fancy?"

His hooves did not stop their massage. "Yes, my dear?"

"Could you... go a little lower?" she requested. Fancy was not hesitant to grant her wish, gradually descending down her body until he was rubbing her lower back, from the middle of her spine all the way down to her tailbase.

New knots and tense spots she had been previously unaware of fell prey to her husband's loving hooves, and every time he brushed them over the base of her tail, the newfound heated sensation in her thighs and between her hind legs became magnified.

"Is this good?"

She pressed her face into the comforter, covering it from the nose down with her forelegs. A drop of saliva trickled from the corner of her mouth. "Yes, yes... keep going... oh Celestia, that feels wonderful..."

Fancy had not planned on stopping anytime soon. He straightened his forelegs out and pressed down a little harder, really digging in. The change in force elicited a low moan from her, and her entire lower half began to wiggle under his touch. She turned her head around to look back at him with a sultry stare.

"You can... go even lower," she said. Almost subconsciously, her rump lifted up a few inches, and her tail, still a bit damp from her shower, began to flick from side to side. To Fancy Pants, there was no doubt about what she was implying. Momentarily taking his hooves from her back, he scooted around until he was seated right behind her flanks.

"As you wish," he replied, grinning from ear to ear. Once more, he set his hooves onto her lower back, and from there, he traced further down her body until his hooves were planted firmly on her flanks. When he arrived there, he began to massage her presented rear, tracing clockwise circles around her three diamond cutie marks.

"Uh, ahh..." Little gasps escaped her. She crossed her forelegs in front of her and panted into the space between them; he knew how much she adored having her cutie marks tended to. Fancy gradually picked up the pace with his rubs, starting off in slow, small circles and building up to wide, all-encompassing strokes that covered her entire backside. As a response to the treatment, her rump began to wriggle and perform its own little dance, and her occasional moans became more frequent.

This, too, lasted for several minutes. The heated feeling intensified the more he rubbed, and the warmth soon spread like wildfire to the rest of her body. A damp spot began to form on the covers beneath her tail, and as it grew, she could no longer blame it on the shower she'd taken. A drop of the moisture trickled down and tickled her inner thigh.

"Everything alright?" he asked, calm as could be while she moaned on the bed, hips gyrating with each and every caress to her rump. She reared her head back and nodded emphatically, reveling in the treatment her flanks were receiving.

"Yes... oh, goodness, yes..." she panted into the covers. "Much better than alright... oh, oh my word..."

Her tail swished from side to side, offering him glimpses of what was underneath. Fancy kneaded her cutie marks a little harder, feeling his own arousal growing as he watched her squirm. Each time her indigo tail flicked over to the side, his eyes became riveted on the spot underneath, only to be covered back up. This process repeated itself many times. In fact, it almost seemed as though she were doing it on purpose...

Fancy's limbs seemed to develop minds of their own. He was only partially aware of his hooves descending further down her body, easing around her flanks to caress her upper thighs, sliding up the curve of her rear, moving under her tail...

"Fancy, wh-whaa..." Rarity moaned, rump twitching seductively under his hooves. She had only a moment to question what was happening as he lifted her tail and pulled it off to the side, pinning it to her leg...

And now, with his target unobstructed, he eagerly brushed his hoof over her swollen, dripping slit.

"FaaaAAAncy!" Her voice cracked as the tip of his hoof came into contact with her marehood, tracing circles and various patterns over it. The scent of her arousal mingled with the lingering aroma of chamomile in a strange, syrupy sweet sensation that drove them both wild. "Uhh, ah!"

Her reaction was exactly what Fancy Pants had been hoping for. Moisture from her slit dripped onto his hoof and the blanket below, creating a damp place in the fabric, and he kept her tail pinned firmly to her leg and out of the way. His wife's rump lifted higher into the air with silent approval, spreading the petals of her delicate flower slightly and allowing more of her arousal to leak out. Her head rolled from side to side; her tongue lolled out of her mouth, and her fore hooves clenched the comforter beneath her in a death grip. Short pants and gasps made it almost impossible for her to speak.

The light, musty odor emanating from between her legs was intoxicating. Fancy felt his own growing arousal beneath him, but for the moment he pushed it aside to focus on the current task at hand. Moving from bottom to top, top to bottom and side to side, he made sure to vary his movements over her glistening slit, keeping the pleasurable sensations as fresh for her as he could.

Rarity, at this point, was past the point of coherence. Every last inch of her tingled and swelled with heat and pleasure from her husband's meticulous attention to her marehood. Sweat soaked her marble-white coat, running down in rivulets over her body. She shivered, moaned, and squirmed in ecstasy, beside herself with lust. She couldn't imagine anything feeling better...

That is until Fancy Pants decided to step it up one final level. Keeping her tail out of the way, he leaned forward, placed the tip of his snout in front of her soaking wet flower and gave it a single, slow lick from top to bottom, finishing with a flick of his tongue over the tiny button at the base of her slit.

If Rarity had been moaning before, then she was positively screaming now. And the onslaught did not stop there; Fancy gave her another lick, and then another, lapping at her folds like a dog desperate for water. The tongue-bathing caused her to thrash about so intensely that Fancy Pants had to grab hold of her flanks with both hooves to keep her still while he continued his ministrations, letting her tail drape itself over his shoulder.

Now that it was impossible for her to escape, Rarity was completely at her husband's mercy. Her hind legs trembled and jerked with the sensory overload, and her forelegs made a galloping motion on the bed as if she were trying desperately to get away. The opposite, however, could not have been any truer.

Fancy's licking continued. And continued. And with each new caress of his tongue over her entrance, Rarity could feel the immense heat starting to take hold of her entire body like a bonfire. The muscles in her tail and rear tensed up like coiled springs, and her hips gyrated in a tight figure eight motion. Her head reared back as though she were being pulled on a leash, both her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth fell open with ragged breaths...

Fancy Pants gifted her with one last lick, and with a howl of agonized ecstasy, Rarity lost her mind to orgasm.

Her hips bucked up into the air over and over again, hind legs splaying and kicking out like a rodeo bull. The walls of Rarity's feminine tunnel clamped down on Fancy's outstretched tongue in an erratic rhythm as he held her rump in place, essentially having to restrain her to the bed with his hooves to keep her from rolling off as she came again and again, quaking uncontrollably with every burning pulse of her feminine slit.

"Aaaahaaaaa..." she moaned and gasped for air, orgasms washing over her body like an incoming tide. Fancy Pants could feel his own arousal poking into the bed covers as he watched and felt his wife lose herself to unimaginable pleasure. The sight of her enjoying herself so much made his heart swell in tandem with his member; to him, there was no greater feeling in the world than knowing he had been able to give her such an experience.

At last, after what seemed like an indefinite amount of time, the seemingly endless waves of pleasure began to recede down the shoreline, and her orgasm died down into afterglow. Her limbs still occasionally twitched and jerked with tiny aftershocks, but otherwise, she collapsed to the bed completely, head lolling to one side and tongue hanging limply out from the corner of her mouth. Drool trickled out from both of her entrances, staining the blankets, and the sound of her labored breathing filled the room.

Fancy Pants allowed her to bask in the glorious afterglow for a few minutes, breathing in the strange concoction of sweet chamomile mixed with the distinctive smell of sex. His aroused member made it hard for him to walk, so he awkwardly scooted around her until he was sitting beside her head. Smiling wide, he placed a hoof onto her sweat-soaked mane and softly stroked her head, running his arm down her neck and scratching the spot behind her ears. At his gentle touch, her limp body came alive once more, and she weakly lifted her head.

"Uunh..." She gazed up at him. Her eyes were partially closed with contentment and fatigue, and her ribcage expanded and contracted with every heavy breath she expelled.

"Hello, Rarity," he said. It was as if he were welcoming her home all over again. "H-How are you feeling?"

Hearing the sound of his gentle voice, Rarity's lips parted into a satisfied smile. She let him run his hoof through her oily mane without complaint.

"I'm... oh my," she said between breaths. "Celestia... You... Thank you so much, for... for everything..."

Fancy leaned down, smooching her on the cheek. "All for you, my dear. Always."

Rarity gave a tired chuckle. With a muted thud, her head plopped back down onto the bed. She closed her eyes with a deep sigh. "Fancy... you're... you're always good to me..."

Fancy Pants felt his heart flutter in his chest. He lied down beside her and set his foreleg around her shoulders. "Your pleasure is mine as well, Miss Rarity." He nuzzled her on the cheek. She only smiled weakly in response.

A short period of calm silence ensued. Fancy continued to idly pet her mane and neck, enjoying the silence which was only interrupted by the rhythm of his wife's breathing and thumping of his own heartbeat. Eyes half-lidded and feeling darkness inching up on him, he let the ever present chamomile cloud dull his senses and whisk him into a dreamlike state.

He had nearly fallen asleep, nearly given into the darkness, when something happened. Something that Fancy did not expect: Rarity, despite her exhausting ordeal, began to move again.

Eyes shut, her movement jolted him awake. His eyes snapped open, and he turned his gaze sideways to look at her. What he saw was something most peculiar: an odd fire of determination burned in her eyes, and Rarity looked as though she were trying to stand up, forelegs quivering underneath her as she pushed up on the bed. Fancy Pants cocked his head, and he tried standing up.

"Erm, Rarity? What are...?"

Without warning, she slid out from underneath his hoof, letting it fall to the bed with a light thump. Before he even knew what was going on, Rarity stood up on a set of shaky legs and lurched forward, falling into him. He whooped with surprise as she rolled him over, landing on top of his chest. Taken aback by the suddenness of it all, Fancy barely had time to register what had just happened as Rarity planted her lips onto his in a deep, passionate kiss.

She wrapped a foreleg around the back of his neck and pulled him closer, smacking her lips against his lewdly and holding him there for what felt like ages before she at last let him come up for air. Finally set free, Fancy Pants gasped, filling his lungs with as much air as he could. He looked up at her with an expression of welcome surprise, expecting her to dive right back in.

But oddly, Rarity did not return the kiss. Instead, she slumped down on top of his chest with a little 'oof' and lay on him like a mattress. Fancy felt her relax submissively against him, resting her chin on his collarbone.

"Rar-"

"I... I am sorry," she said in his ear. When he turned his head, he could see a deep crimson burning on her cheeks. "I did not mean to... knock you over like that, it's... it's just that I, you... you're..."

She was having trouble forming coherent sentences. Fancy surmised that it probably had to do with the fact that she was still recovering from such an explosive orgasm. He waited patiently, allowing her all the time in the world to say what was on her mind.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, but for what, Fancy wasn't exactly sure. A pained smile flashed on her face, and she turned away too late to hide it. "I...You've just... You've always thought of me. No matter what, you've always been concerned for my well-being. Making me feel like a lady, being everything I've always dreamed of a stallion ever being... all while putting up with some of my... _less desirable_ traits..."

Fancy listened to her carefully, forced to breathe lightly with her body weight pressing down on his chest. While he had to admit that he was somewhat perplexed by her behavior, he nonetheless found it adorable. He knew how dramatic Rarity could be sometimes, after all...

"All in the vows, dear." He stroked her disheveled mane. "For better or for worse, as long as we live." He craned his head forward to give her a kiss on the cheek.

But, to his befuddlement, Rarity appeared to pull her head away, causing him to kiss only the air beside her face. Not sure what to think of this, he set his head back down onto the feather comforter while she turned her face away, lying the other side of her head on his collarbone.

"I know, Fancy... and that's why I'm so glad. I'm so glad that... that I could marry somepony like you, somepony who cares so much. Somepony so selfless... Even if..." She swallowed hard here. "...Even if I don't deserve it..."

And just like that, in a flash, her demeanor took an unexpected turn. She fell silent for a minute, and her breathing shallowed out. Fancy could feel her chest heave once against him. The foreleg around him tightened its grip.

"Don't deserve... What do you mean?" His tone went interrogative. Every word she was saying to him was beginning to worry him more and more. He tried to turn his head and look at her face, but her grip around him was like a vice. "What is the matter?"

Rarity took in a sharp breath through her nose, which sounded to his ears like a sniffle. She squirmed on top of him uncomfortably but held her position.

"...I-I am so grateful, "she said in a voice that sounded like a whimper. "A-and I wanted you to know how happy I am, and... a-and..."

Then, he felt something hot drip onto his neck. His brow furrowed in worry and puzzlement; in fact, if he didn't know better, he would have thought that she was...

"...and I wanted you to know that I'm sorry."

Her last statement was sobbed out. Tears streamed down her cheeks and onto the crook of his neck where she now buried her face, and they began to form a small puddle where his skin met the covers.

Fancy would have tried to speak, but at the moment his mouth could not form words. His mind reflected on everything he's just heard, trying to make sense of it but failing miserably. Rarity's other hoof, which had been lying off to the other side, forced its way underneath his neck so that she was clasping both her hooves around him in a bear hug. Fancy was helpless, unable to move unless he wanted to totally throw her off, which in her current emotional state was probably not the best idea.

"I'm sorry, Fancy... Y-You've done nothing but put me first since the day we were married, and..." She paused, taking a shuddering breath. "...I haven't. I've... I've only cared about myself."

Another sob came from her throat. Fancy lay in stunned silence as she gripped him even tighter, as if she were trying to make up for something she did wrong. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before he was finally able to form words.

"Rarity, I... I am afraid I don't know what you mean..."

Rarity's response to his admission was incredulous. "Oh, you _must_ know! How in Equestria could you possibly _not_?" her exclamation was muffled by the blanket pressed against her mouth. "I've been away more than I've been home this past year, Fancy!"

The silence that followed was a cacophony. Almost right away, Fancy Pants began to understand, but upon hearing her self-condemnation, he grimaced. He knew how exhausted she was, and he also knew how emotional sensitivity tended to increase with lack of sleep...

"Rarity, dear..." he cooed, "if this is about you being gone so often... you mustn't feel bad about being busy. I understand..."

"But that's not the point!" She shuffled on top of him, groaning with exasperation. "I've been doing it to _myself_, Fancy! Running myself into the ground week after week, never relaxing, never sleeping, and for what?" The volume of her voice increased gradually. It was starting to hurt Fancy's ears a little, but he suffered through the minor discomfort. "For some new 'gig'? To get myself noticed or meet some new bigshot so I can become a celebrity as well? How selfish can I possibly be!"

Rarity's voice was growing shakier and higher in pitch. Noticing it, Fancy Pants knew that he was now treading on thin ice. Making sure to keep his voice gentle, he said, "My dear, I think perhaps you are being a little hard on yourself..."

His efforts to soothe her did not have the desired effect. She shook her head rapidly, strands of her mane tickling the side of his face.

"But I'm not, Fancy! I'm not..." she pressed her tear-stained face into the curve of his neck, her horn touching against his. "I've spent the last year traveling from city to city, from exhibitions and contests, hardly coming home... I've spent day after day meeting with other designers, celebrities, modeling agencies, coming back to hotels in the middle of the night, barely sleeping..." She took a deep breath. "...all in some hopes that all of it would bring me some kind of satisfaction, or happiness, or...something. _Anything._"

She stopped for a moment. After waiting for some time, Fancy considered opening his mouth to say something, but before he could make a decision, she started again.

"... And then I come home," she said. "I get off the train... and you're there. You take the heavy bag off of my back and carry it yourself, you... you take me home in a closed carriage and make me tea... a-and then you treat me to one of the most wonderful feelings I've ever experienced, all because you just want me to feel better. And..."

She stopped, closing her eyes. Fancy Pants awaited patiently without speaking a word, gently rubbing her sweat-soaked back. Her voice dropped to almost a whisper.

"... And now I feel like, after all the weeks and months I've been spending running around Equestria trying to make a name for myself... after such a long time, it's only now that I actually feel... happy."

And with this final remark, Rarity fell silent. The only sound that could be heard was that of their slow breathing. Exhaustion at last seemed to set upon her, and with her right ear pressed against Fancy's chest, she could feel and hear the steady thumping of his heart lulling her into a dreamlike state.

Until he spoke.

"Rarity."

The mention of her name made Rarity's eyes flutter back open. Fancy's voice was clear, but not loud. Firm, but without a trace of anger.

"Rarity..." he said her name again. And then, rather suddenly, she felt him begin to push up on her. Taken off guard, she scrambled off of him, rolling ungracefully onto the bed. Quickly, she sat up on her haunches, and her ears flattened onto her head.

"I-I apologize, I was not trying to make you feel uncom-"

She got no further. With her no longer weighing him down, Fancy Pants got up, rushed forward, and kissed her.

"Mmph!" Rarity reared her head back with the intrusion, and her eyes widened to the size of saucers. The kiss did not last long, however, and Fancy pulled away, only to nearly lift her off of the bed in a bear hug of his own. She was too stunned to react at first, but eventually found herself hugging him right back.

"Rarity..." he rocked her slowly from side to side in his embrace. One hoof cradled her head while the other wrapped diagonally around her lower back. "Please, just listen to me. I have something I want to say, as well. Alright?"

She heard him loud and clear. With her chin on his shoulder, she nodded. "A-Alright..."

Now that she'd indicated her understanding, Fancy Pants loosened his grip and scooted back a bit, giving her some more breathing room. "Rarity..." he cooed softly into her ear. "Do you remember our honeymoon?"

The question brought forth many pleasant memories to her head. She nodded again. "Mm hm. Las Pegasus... I don't think I could ever forget it."

Fancy smiled. "And do you remember that night when we ate at that restaurant? The one in the hotel where we stayed, at the top of the tower with the rotating glass dome?"

At the mention of it, Rarity's eyes went half-lidded with reminiscence. "Yes, I do. Very nice place. Quite the expensive place, too... Fifteen bits for a bowl of French onion soup, if I remember right," she said with a scoff. "Would have been more ghastly if it hadn't been so good."

Fancy chuckled with her. "Well then, it was a good thing I paid the tab, was it not?"

Despite the lingering feelings of guilt weighing heavy on her heart, she couldn't help but laugh a little. "Yes, indeed. Thank goodness..."

A short time of silence reigned in the room once more, but it did not overstay its welcome. Fancy Pants continued. "And do you remember what we talked about that night at dinner?"

Rarity narrowed her eyes. She thought back to that night; she could practically taste the melted fontina cheese and the hot, savory broth on her tongue, but the memory of their conversation that night escaped her.

"Err… no, I am afraid not…" she smiled sadly, shaking her head. "Funny how I can remember how much a bowl of soup cost, but can't even recall what we talked about… pfft, some wife I am…"

"That is enough," Fancy Pants said very directly, fore hooves grasping her tightly again. "I will not bear to listen to you continue down this road of self-loathing. It is quite alright if you do not remember. It _was_ a while ago, after all."

Fancy's admonishment shocked Rarity into speechlessness. He felt her cringe, and her ears became practically taped to the back of her head. Unwittingly, she let a whimper escape from her throat. Hearing it, Fancy's face and heart immediately softened, along with his grip of her.

"Rarity... I, I am sorry..." He drew his head back and kissed her on the cheek in an effort to make amends. "I did not mean to sound so harsh..."

"No, no," Rarity shook her head, putting on a tough act. "I-It's alright..."

Her sniffling told a different story. Fancy Pants rubbed his cheek against hers and breathed in the faint, musty odor from her disheveled mane. He did not mind one bit.

"No, it's not alright. I was wrong to snap at you. I am sorry, truly I am." He gently massaged the base of her neck. "Just... please, _please_ do not think so poorly of yourself. I cannot bear to hear it. Okay?"

Rarity could tell from the sound of his voice that he was not angry with her. With a quivering lip and glossy eyes, she nodded her head. Fancy smiled warmly.

"Alright. Now," he said, getting back to what he was saying before. "At dinner that night, you told me a lot. About your fashion career, specifically, and how it would take you places. You were quite forward with me about it; you even gave me a... _warning_ of sorts when you told me how busy you would sometimes be with your work. And do you remember what I said?" he asked, and then quickly added in, "Once again, it is perfectly alright if you do not, my dear."

Despite his reassurance, Rarity actively took on the challenge. She tapped into her brain, trying hard to piece the memory together. As he outlined their conversation on that night more than two years ago, she began to recall the events described, filling in the gaps until a picture of the memory formed in front of her eyes like a photograph. Other senses entered in as well; the sound of silverware clinking on plates, the gentle murmuring of ponies seated around them, harp music being played onstage behind her and the bowl of steaming French onion soup wafting under her nose. But most importantly, the voice of her husband began to materialize out of all of the background noise...

"I... I think so," she said with a slight bit of uncertainty. Her voice shook, but she did her best to keep it under control. "I think it was something about how... how you understood, and... how you already knew I'd be busy, and that you were fine with that..."

This time, it was Fancy Pants' turn to nod. "Indeed. Now, why I remembered that particular night, or that conversation, I am not entirely sure." He unwrapped his forelegs from around her and leaned back, placing them onto her shoulders. Rarity lowered her head and aimed her gaze down at the covers as he spoke. "But rest assured, Rarity... I meant it. I _knew_ you were a busy mare long before I even proposed to you. I knew you had ambition and zeal for what you did, and a passion to only continue getting better at it. And Rarity..." He placed his hoof below her chin and lifted her head. Her glassy eyes reflected the candlelight right back at him. "...That is one of the reasons why I fell in love with you in the first place: that ambition. That same spirit that wanted to go out and conquer the world. I _wanted_ to see you succeed. I wanted you to make a name for yourself." He pecked her on the lips. "And I still do."

The words carried an echo in the quiet of the room. Fancy lowered his hoof from her chin but never took his gaze away from her, the faintest of smiles playing upon his lips. Rarity's eyes shimmered.

"R-Really?"

Fancy Pants nearly guffawed at the question. "Of course! There is nothing wrong with wanting to advance your career, or wanting to put yourself out there for the world to see. I would hardly call it being selfish to have those desires; everypony has them. Your career is something you are very passionate about... and very good at... and it is my duty as your husband to support you every step of the way. But..."

If the tone and feel of the room had at last been on an upswing, then the single, last word he uttered was sufficient enough to bring it crashing right back down. Rarity felt like a lead weight had dropped into the pit of her stomach.

"...That does not mean that there are not still times when you can take matters a bit too far. When you push yourself past your healthy limits and end up hurting yourself because of it."

Right away, Rarity knew where this was going. Shame and embarrassment crept back up on her, and she withered like a rose left out in the cold, shrinking down into the bed and staring at her hooves.

"I know... I'm sorry. I know I've been running myself into the ground, lately. I know I've been taking things too far..." She seemed too afraid to even look at him. Fancy Pants could see the guilt and discouragement written on her face as plain as day. He lowered his own body and leaned forward until his snout was almost touching hers.

"I know." He affectionately rubbed his cheek up and down the base of her horn. "I am glad you see it, Rarity..."

"Far too late, I'm afraid," she sighed. "I can't help but feel like such a failure for not seeing it sooner..."

"Rarity, you are _not_ a failure," he said with an abruptness and firmness that almost made Rarity flinch. "We all fail. We all have our shares of mistakes. But that does not make us failures," he said. "And it is _never_ too late to learn from our mistakes."

Darkness began to creep in from the four corners of the room as the smattering of tiny candles were now nearly consumed, melted wax and scented oils pooling in the little tins where each one was held. Fancy lowered his voice to a whisper.

"And even though you may have failed, and even if you feel undeserving, or perhaps even ashamed of what you've done... that isn't going to make me love you any less. All in the vows, Rarity; for better or for worse, no matter what."

At last, after what had felt like hours, he concluded his speech.

At this point, the room was close to darkness, the flames from many of the candles now emitting nothing more than thin ribbons of gray smoke. The heavy, chamomile aroma in the air receded as well, the scented oils no longer heated by flame. He laid his head on Rarity's shoulder with a sigh, and she did not move from her place. For some time, the only signs of life he sensed from her were the feeling of her warm breaths against the nape of his neck.

And then, he felt something else; a tear dripped onto his cheek. It wasn't his. He turned to look at her.

She was crying. And best of all, she was smiling.

"Fancy..." Her quivering lips stretched from ear to ear. Fancy could feel her entire body beginning to shake with the emotions now surging through her. "I... I..."

Fancy Pants had forgotten how hard Rarity could hug. He would never forget again. With a lightning fast motion, she reached her forelegs around his withers and clasped her hooves around him, squeezing so tight that, for a moment, it took his breath away. Whatever she had been trying to say before, she abandoned the effort as tears flowed freely down her face. Fancy hugged her back immediately, ignoring the twinge of pain in his shoulders from her vice-like embrace.

"Shh, it's okay," he said, just loud enough to be heard. He nuzzled her and planted a wet kiss on her neck. "I love you, dear. Nothing will change that. I love you so much, Rarity..."

It did not stop the tears, but the smile on her face only widened. In response to his sweet words, she rubbed her cheek up and down his neck in a loving massage. Fancy closed his eyes at the treatment, not caring about the runoff from her snout dripping onto his fur or the mild discomfort in his upper back.

"I know," she replied. Rarity's forelegs drifted down his back while he buried his nose into her mane, kissing the top of her head. Strength seemed to leech out of her as the minutes passed by, forelegs gradually slipping down his back until they were almost limp. "I love you, too... thank you, Fancy. I love you."

They stayed like this for quite some time, long enough for the last of the firelight to fade away. Fancy continued to utter sweet nothings into her ear, rubbing the very same area on her back as he had before until her crying drifted away with the candlelight. Chamomile floated in a transparent cloud over their heads.

Tension gave way to soothing serenity. Their eyes adjusted to the dark rather easily; the ability to see one another was also made easier by their white colored coats. With the ushering in of the darkness, Fancy withdrew his hoof from her back and began to guide her over to the pillows, leaning off to the side to pull her along with him. It was getting late, and after their exhausting ordeal, Fancy was sure Rarity would want some rest.

But for some reason, when his hooves gingerly tried to guide her over to the pillows, he encountered resistance. Again he pulled, a little harder this time, but her hind legs were rooted to the bed, refusing to budge. Oddly, Rarity's turned her face away as he shot her an inquisitive stare.

"Dear... it's getting late." He scooted back a bit. Rarity did not reply. Once more, he tried again, but she did not move. "Erm... Rarity?"

She lifted her head, turning her averted gaze back toward him. Even in the darkness of the room, Fancy could faintly make out the redness flushing on her face against the white contrast of her skin. Rarity's head shook from side to side.

"Not... not yet," she said. The corners of her lips twitched into a smirk. "Not yet..."

Fancy narrowed his eyes, oblivious. "What do you m-"

Her lips locking onto his answered his question before he could ask it. She darted forward, grabbed both sides of his face and leaned forward into the kiss, nearly pushing him onto his back. To keep this from happening, Fancy Pants was forced to push right back, matching her strength. The wrestling match went on for a while, each of them taking turns gaining the upper hoof until they both needed to come up for a breath.

Their lips came apart with a loud, wet smack as Fancy pulled himself away, falling onto his side on the covers. Rarity, on the other hoof, managed to stay upright. She was huffing and puffing, and bits of her dampened mane hung in strands over her eyes and cheeks like ribbons.

"Darling... I'm sorry, I didn't..." She paused with a giddy grin, giggling like a schoolfilly. "I don't know what came over me..."

Fancy was trying to take in as much oxygen as his lungs would allow, eyes wide with shock. He didn't reply, which only made her giggle again.

"Fancy, I... I know I've always said that I loved you." Sweetness dripped from her voice like maple syrup. "And I've always meant it. But right now... I want to _show_ you."

Fancy Pants had been mildly oblivious before. Perhaps he had felt a sneaking suspicion, but little else. But now, the implications she was making could no longer go over his head.

Her smirk turned into a sultry smile, and excited breaths made her chest rise and fall rapidly. "You look surprised, sweetheart." Her tail carried high, and she flicked it from side to side, brushing it over the blanket like a paintbrush on a canvas. As she did so, Fancy's nose became aware of the familiar smell of arousal that her tail fanned into the air.

"Erm, well, I, uh... I must admit that I am... I would not have thought you to be up to something like this after... everything..." A bead of sweat trickled over the ridges of his furrowed brow. He wiped it away as Rarity made her slow approach. She blushed even deeper.

"I know this must come to you as abrupt. But Fancy... darling, I feel... I still feel like I owe you something," she said. The lowness of her voice and the way she dragged out some of the syllables made Fancy's pupils dilate. "Tonight, right now. All for _you._"

The way her eyes were partly closed, the way she crossed her forelegs underneath her in a meek modeling pose, the amused smile she got from watching his reaction... it was getting to his head. Fast. Fancy Pants began to stammer, pushing himself back up into a sitting position with his rump on the pillows.

"Uh, umm, R-Rar... i-it's, I..."

"Hush." She placed a hoof over his lips to quiet him. "It's only fair, you know..."

Fancy could not control the growing, heated sensation in his own loins as he inhaled her distinct aroma. Rarity craned her neck like a swan's and turned sideways, giving him a look of her entire body from head to tail while keeping her bedroom eyes fixed on him. Still, despite all of this, he managed to keep from fully losing his head in the clouds.

"Rarity, you do not need to feel some kind of obligation to 'repay' me..."

"Oh, but I do!" she exclaimed. Her face lit up so brightly that it practically glowed in the dark. "I am! I want to, Fancy. For you."

Every enthusiastic statement she made chipped away at his resolve. Fancy shuffled nervously while the more primal parts of his psyche urged him forward, toward her, to fulfill her request. But for reasons he could not quite explain, he felt some other part of his analytical mind persuading him to hesitate, to search for potential objections or risks as if he were assessing an investment in shares of stock...

"Rarity, I-I do not want you to feel that I have pressured you into-"

But again, she casually dismissed his worries with a roll of her smiling eyes before they could even culminate. "Nonsense, darling! You've done precisely the opposite."

At this point, she really could not have been any clearer. But still, through the fog of lust that was swiftly permeating through the last recesses of his brain like hot water through a sponge, he managed to come up with another reason.

"The train to Vanhoover is early in the morning..."

But again, she batted it away with the batting of her eyelashes. "... Indeed. And it is _truly_ a tragedy that I had to miss the train due to unexpected illness." She took two steps forward so that her croup was beside to his head. "Thank goodness my husband was able to stay home with me in my hour of need and nurse me back to health."

Her sarcastic tone was plainly evident, as was the heat that was radiating from her skin. She slinked forward, discreetly enough that Fancy Pants was taken off guard by what she did next; in a carefully calculated move, she waited until the curve of her flanks was right beside his head before she swished her messy tail, now damp with arousal and sleek with leftover sweat, over his snout before darting back away, dragging it across his face in the process.

Fancy Pants got every whiff of her; it was enough to set the basest desires of his mind alight. And with the last vestiges of his willpower now slipping away, nothing could hold the throbbing heat in his loins back. Rarity turned to look over her shoulder, and beamed at what she now beheld, prominently displayed between his hind legs; needless to say, her trick had worked.

"I know you're holding back," she purred. She angled her rump toward him and approached the foot of the bed. "Just let it go."

It was at that moment, with his eyes hypnotized by the swaying of her rump and the pulsing heat in his nethers growing to such an exponential degree, that he began to truly experience all of the weeks, all of the nights sleeping in this same bed all alone, all of the pent up energy waiting for a release... all building up to a colossal peak.

Rarity bent her front legs and lowered her front half to the bed, arching her back and thrusting her butt up into the air. Keeping her back legs straight as arrows, she spread them apart and revealed her puffy, swollen marehood to him, hiking her tail up and curling it over onto her back. The last obstruction to her rump now out of the way, her heartbeat drummed against her own inner ears, thumping so erratically she thought it might burst from her chest.

Fancy's eyes could not tear themselves away. Each pulse of his own heart made his member throb accordingly, becoming so erect that he could feel it rub against his belly. Rarity was gazing at it from over her shoulder, strands of saliva dripping out of the corner of her mouth. An almost imperceptible, tiny shake of her rear and a wink of her vagina enticed him forward without even a word. His shaft slapped against his underside with each step he made until he was standing right beside her rump. She felt his hooves land with light slaps on her cutie marks, sensed him rearing up on his hind legs with his member poised right in front of her dripping entrance...

But then, just as he was almost there, just as she thought he was about to finally fulfill her request...

"Rarity, a-are you absolutely sure-"

And for her, with her engorged slit and curved rump raised high in the air, mind set ablaze with a passionate desire and begging for him to take her... the thought of his hesitating any longer, of even the idea that he would keep her waiting anymore, made her snap.

"Oh, for goodness' sake, Fancy! For once in your life, stop trying to be such a gentlecolt and _rut_ me already!"

For a single, frozen moment, time seemed to come to a standstill. Her shout reverberated off the bedroom walls like the tolling of a bell. An ultimatum.

Then, she felt his hooves press down more firmly into her rump, followed by something tracing down the length of her slit. The faintest of chuckles, followed by the sound of his voice speaking softly into her ear.

"As you wish... Miss Rarity."

And then, with a quick, hard thrust, he at last penetrated into her depths.

"Nnnyaa!" Rarity had been waiting for him to enter, but the speed of the intrusion was still unexpected. His shaft slipped inside with little trouble, her lady parts glistening with her sweet fluids and allowing him easy entry. She reared her head back and let out a cute squeak as he withdrew his cock, only to thrust it back in a little harder.

Rarity was a lady. And as a lady, she often enjoyed the more tender side of lovemaking. But if there was one thing Fancy Pants had gotten to know about her over the last two years, it was that sometimes, she demanded rougher treatment. He pistoned his hips back and forth, starting off slow but gradually picking up speed and strength. His thighs slapped up against her rump over and over again, the wet smacks sounding in tandem with her moans and gasps. Rarity timed his thrusts and pushed her hips back against him to keep from falling off the bed; it was a thrill she reveled in, being so close to the edge, forced to be an active participant and only kept in place by her husband's hooves planted firmly on her rear. She loved it. And what was even better; she knew he loved it, too.

Fancy Pants readjusted his position slightly, keeping his tool inside while he shuffled forward over her, taking his hooves off of her cutie marks and setting them on either side of her body. Rarity felt his belly rub up against her back and push down on top of her, making her arch her back even more. But she soon discovered that this position, with her derriere raised up as far it could go and his body pressing down on her spine, was impossible to maintain. Her hind legs gave out beneath her, causing her lower half to fall with a soft thud onto the covers. His heated breaths tickled the back of her ears.

"Is this... comfortable?" he asked her between pants. Rarity's eyes fluttered closed, and she laughed inwardly; even now, he was still more concerned with making sure she was doing alright.

"Y-yes, yes, Fancy," she responded, nodding her head emphatically. "Keep going, don't stop..."

At her consent, Fancy resumed. His forelegs tightened at her sides to keep himself situated while he bucked his hips forward and down. Her clenching, heated love tunnel sucked his length deeper in, stretching open to accommodate his girth. Both her rear and her hind legs tightened against the coming onslaught; gentlecolt as he was, once he lost himself to the instincts of rut, he was not much unlike like any other stallion. Rarity could taste drops of salty sweat on her lips and feel his breathing on the nape of her neck, and she drooled with ecstasy at the feeling of being pinned down, unable to move out from underneath him, unable to escape...

It was perfect.

Fancy made a conscious effort to breathe in a light, steady rhythm in an attempt to keep the fire in his loins under control. He wanted their time together to last. He craned his neck forward and planted a sloppy, wet kiss on her neck, causing her to shiver as a chill traveled up her spine. He grinned.

"My dear," he said, kissing her again on the same spot. "You are the loveliest..." He pumped his hips forward. "...kindest, most amazing..." In and out. "...most beautiful, most deserving..." Her gasps and moans rapidly rose in pitch and volume. "...most incredible..." Forward and back, in and out. "...and most wonderful mare I've ever met."

Rarity's heart felt like it was going to explode. Tingles of electrifying pleasure washed over her like a high tide, growing hotter and more widespread with each impact of her husband's maleness pushing itself deeper. She felt his lips caressing her neck, and whirled her head around on a reflex to give his face a heated lick. Fancy Pants kissed her tenderly on the lips before he withdrew, continuing to slide his mouth and tongue over her neck and shoulders with lust-crazed indulgence.

It did not take long, however, for his chivalrous pattern of steady thrusts to turn into a full-on pounding of her lady parts. The clicking sounds of his solid tool running back and forth through her fluids echoed in the room. Rarity felt the change of pace immediately and buried her head into the comforter, body writhing underneath him in an erotic display. She squeaked, shivered, and moaned into the cranny of space between her forelegs, bracing her rear for the heavy, animalistic rutting she was about to experience.

Sure enough, Fancy Pants ceased his long, drawn out thrusts and switched to shorter, faster motions, causing the whole bed to shake and creak. Rarity's mouth hung wide open, salivating onto her hooves in a frenzy of pleasure and desire. The smell of sex was overpowering, covering them in a translucent fog that affected all of their other senses. Pinned to her back, her tail flourished under his belly as her sphincter involuntarily contracted in response to his hips smacking audibly against her flanks. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she let out a wild yell to the ceiling.

"M-mooore, oh, ahhh" she shouted incoherently, "Harder, ah..."

Sweat poured down their bodies and left damp spots on the bed. Hearing her shouts, Fancy's valiant efforts to control himself melted away completely, and he lost himself to mating instincts. He gave a low, guttural growl and rammed himself into her again and again at the fastest speed he could manage, hips appearing like a blur. Rarity dug her front legs in and pushed back against him, moaning and crying out as her pleas were answered.

But then, his thrusts became more erratic and unpredictable. He jerked his stallionhood back and forth in a lack of rhythm; all of the pressure built up from weeks of inactivity, weeks spent sleeping alone, all came together at the flaring head of his cock. He rammed himself into her tight cunny once, twice, three more times, the fire in his loins coming to a single, promontory peak...

And then, with a high pitched whinny, he let it all loose.

Rarity felt his stiff member twitching and pulsing within her aching love tunnel, spilling out weeks worth of his hot seed into her depths. She writhed underneath him, gasps and moans escaping from her ragged throat.

His hind legs came off of the bed, pounding her mercilessly and driving her into the sheets. She clenched her teeth together as her lower belly began to burn with an intense heat, spilling over from her nethers and working its way up to her chest and head. Her eyes were wide open, but all she could see were colored stars on a white background. Her rump wiggled and her hind legs squirmed; the moans escalated, her abdominals tensed up…

And with a hoarse squeal of delight, she came for the second time that evening.

Neither one of them was aware of anything else besides the heat and pleasure radiating from them. Fancy's throbbing cock continued to pump inside her like a garden hose, spilling white, creamy seed into her sweet crevice at a frenzied pace. Rarity's inner walls clamped down onto his stallionhood and held on tight, milking as much of the wonderful sperm from his throbbing shaft as she possibly could. Orgasmic fluids spilled out from her entrance and leaked out into a pool on the blanket, and her head rolled from side to side in a tiny puddle of her own drool.

At last, Fancy's member made it's last pump into her overflowing canal, and with a muffled gasp for air, he slumped down on top of her. For Rarity, on the other hoof, the release was not yet over. Her pussy continued, in vain, to milk him for everything he had left, the rest of her sweat-soaked body rocking and spasming from side to side as if she were in a panic to get out from underneath him. This lasted for a long while until finally, with the last reserves of her energy and generosity spent, she fell totally limp on the blanket, tongue hanging out of her open mouth.

While he was still huffing and puffing, he could barely hear her breathing at all until a happy sigh of contentment escaped her. He pushed himself off of her with a pair of shaky front legs and pulled his glistening tool from her slit with a lewd, squelching pop, letting some of the pent up fluids dribble out of her marehood. The only indicator Rarity gave him that she'd even felt him pull out was a twitch of her disheveled tail, which naturally drifted back down to cover herself up.

"Ra..." He tried to say her name, but had to wait until he had caught his breath before he could try again, this time with more success. "Rarity, dear... Rarity..."

She offered no reply, lying flat on her stomach. Her eyes only fluttered weakly, if that was even any indication that she's heard him at all. Quietly, carefully, he stepped away from her prostrate form. He took great precautions not to step on her in the process before kneeling down beside her to get a better look of her face, something made easier by the formerly stiff shaft now going flaccid underneath him. He examined her closely for any signs of consciousness.

There were none. He sighed with contentment; after all of the weeks of toiling, of all of the stress she'd endured... and after going through such an exhausting ordeal tonight… Rarity was spent beyond her limits. She had poured out all of herself to him, and now, she simply had nothing left to give.

Fancy Pants scooted closer and lied down on his side next to his unmoving wife. He placed a sweaty hoof over her withers and, as gently as he could manage, pulled her into his own body. With his other hoof, he went underneath and slipped it around her from the other side, hugging her against his chest with both arms. He kissed her one last time on the back of her head.

"Thank you, Rarity." He set his head down and nestled her hers into the curve of his neck. The odor of must and sweat from her messy mane was like a sweet smelling perfume to him. "I love you, and... you deserve all that I can give."

He liked to think that she'd heard his whispers, somewhere in her dreams.

**Author's Note:**

Well, there you have it. My first ever attempt at writing a sex scene in any story. I had to read a ton of mature rated/clopfics in order to get a sense of what I was doing(SOOO many recurring descriptions to work with!), so hopefully this whole thing doesn't just feel hamfisted together.

If it's good, then it's good. If it sucks, well... oh well. Learn from experience and keep on truckin.

Constructive criticism is much appreciated!


End file.
